.lend me the ocean.

We met where the ocean spoke green
you saw me better than i could see myself as i stand in this mirror
my hips and chest spoke literacy better than you could form
but you shaped me
into this figure i could never draw and always used to
disrespect
i see me in you.
our spines melt
into insecurity as you peeled sadness
from your bones and remembered what it was like
to be whole
you make me like to be me
you make me beautiful
you make me hate myself
i don’t like the way these legs
stand
upright
touching.
i like the way your hands
arms
and chin
touch.
reap me clean from these
blurred images and perfection
you see me
i am me.
this mind speaks love as you turn
past young clocks that tick too fast but make time
easier to say goodbye to.
You. Me. We.
our line hasn’t stopped and this pencil still drags
across the page
pick it up.
write your name.


lend me your shoulder blades.
lend me your smell.
give me back what I saw
when love let lights burst
into a thousand colors as you smiled
and took me.

lend me you.

.hang this speaker from the clouds.

.we the mighty.

sew the palms of our eyes with

.wire.

.we the broken.

wait for hearts to bleed heat from the

.ice fire.

heavy-footed and broken-kneed

we will throw our shoulders to the sea

featureless tongues

we begin sleep with eyes closed open
as our shoulders carry stones into dreams
we throw plates at the sunlight
who peers through chicken wired doors

i’ll tuck you in over my throat.

you called the casket
i was the pallbearer
to this sunny morning shadow
with graves wide closed
we loved like slanted echoes

blankets could not warm cold twined feet
we swung from the ceiling and tore tendered hearts
my wrists twist to your tightened skin
you talked with elbows
as our spines met the wall

we wear tape across our lips
carefully knitting ourselves into imagination
carved into sunken cheeks

.shattered in barked veins.

rusted trees reap broken colors.
losing limbs and leaves and beauty
as cold shatters its barked veins.
never letting up to warmth
the trees grew weak.
happiness is only as good as you
make it.
sometimes
squared edges don’t match up
sometimes
she gets jealous of the dying.
always
she wishes for spring.

i once knew a girl.
a girl with torn limbs
the type that come after unexpected snowstorms and icicles born from rain.
she gave the world herself.
the world gave her shattered souls and broken glass hopes.
never letting up to see her light
just bringing storms without the raincoat.